Guilt
by YourTruly-Ice
Summary: Holland had just lost the final match to Spain. Matthew thought it would be a good idea to visit his long time friend. America, England, and France are worried about their little Canadian. They will all end up feeling guilt. Rating may be bumped up later.


Their story is so sad… All of them. They live for so long, but they can't die. Isn't that just tortuous? But I'm not talking about all of them. I talking about, specific European nation. He had seen so much in his life, yet he was still considered young. How could he be young? When the World Wars came around, he fought alongside his men for their- no, his freedom. If the wars didn't affect him enough, watching the people he bonded so closely with over the course of the wars die around him did. He was a personification of a nation. To befriend a mortal human was something unheard of, mainly because how much grief it brought when their sweet time came to an end. He never listened to the others though. And on that basis, he built his life. "Don't do drugs!" they said. "Don't fight if there's a war at your doorstep!" they lectured. "Don't consume alcohol," they slurred. Why should he listen to them? They were just all hypocritical idiots.

Except for one. The one who had liberated him in the Second World War. Yes, Canada was different. The way he stuttered, the way he smiled, the angelic sound of his laugh, it was better than any drug to Holland. Matthew had helped him when he needed help, whether it is he needed help in battle, or just simple tasks like getting groceries. There wasn't a moment he could think of that Matthew wasn't there to help. Aside from the time that Holland had no clue who he was. Trust me; he berated himself daily that he ignored Matthew before the Wars.

Yes, Netherlands was intoxicated with Matthew. He always watched him at the summits, silently drinking in his image. He never stepped out of the shadows about it though. If Matthew did find out, wouldn't it ruin their relationship? After all, Matthew just liked him as a friend. There was no way he felt what that useless drug addict felt towards him, right? At least that's what he thought.

Little did he know he wasn't the only one watching from the shadows. But not all eyes were directed on that dear Northern nation. There were many that were fixated upon him because they had noticed the looks he flung towards their brother, their friend, their son. They noticed all right, and they did not like what they saw at all.

And so it starts on July 11th, 2010. Holland had just lost to Spain in the Fifa World Cup finals. Feeling bad for his brown-haired friend, Canada decided he'd pay a visit. America and company were not entertained. Not in the most twisted sense of the word.

"Why the bloody hell did he decide to visit him?"

"Iggy, you haven't been keeping up with the World Cup, have you?"

…

"…Not really."

France laughed, despite the grim situation they faced. "I don't think any of us 'ave since our teams lost."

"Good point you old fart."

"For once in your life Alfred, I agree with you. Only on the old fart thing though."

"Merci Angleterre. I feel loved now."

"Well you should you stupid little-"

"Guys please shut up! We're here so we can save Mattie, not so you two can bicker like an old couple!"

"We are not bickering like an old couple!"

"I agree Angleterre, but I have to 'ay, I love that shade of red on your face."

"Y-you bloody git!"

"SHUT UP!"

England and France stared at the younger nation.

"Let's just save Matt, 'kay?"

" 'Ell what do you propose?"

"I think I should be the hero, you can be my back up, and England, you can be my back up too."

"Alfred, let's actually try to think of a plan that is going to get Matthew out of that house."

"Well I'd like you to think of something better Mr.I-still-talk-to-unicorns-and-faeries-and-still-believe-in-ghosts."

"At least I don't run over to my brother's house every time some makes a sound in the night."

"I 'ave an idea."

This time, it was America and England's turn to stare at France.

"What is it?" they said in unison.

"Listen closely…"

Netherlands groaned as a soft tapping came from his door. "Who is it?" It better not be Belgium. He was just seriously not in the mood to put up with her right now.

"I-it's me! C-Canada."

Holland shot straight up from his position on the couch. Running to the door, he opened it with a grin. "Oh, hey Matt! I didn't expect you to come over today."

Being ushered in by his taller friend, Matthew smiled. "Well I was watching the game today and thought you could use a visit after that."

Half scowling, Holland retorted, "We both played well, Spain just got lucky, I swear." Wiping the frown on his face away, he then happily expressed, "Still, it's nice of you to come over."

"Well I couldn't have you over dosing again now could I?"

Holland swallowed. The first time Matthew found out about his addiction was when he found him passed out on a couch, needle still in his arm.

Netherlands laughed nervously and stealthily kicked something under his couch. "Yeah…"

Matthew playfully raised an eyebrow at Holland then laughed and sat down on his couch. "So what do you want to do?"

A few crucial things Canada failed to notice was 1) the way those amber eyes quietly scanned his form over, debating internally whether to act on whim or brain, 2) the fact that Holland was now standing in front of his only escape route, and 3) the ever so faint smell of alcohol that hung in the air.

"Are you sure this is going to work Francis? If it doesn't Matthew could really-"

"It will work Angleterre."

"But what if Matthew doesn't want to be saved! What if everything that is going on in there is perfectly fine and normal! I mean, sure Holland has a reputation, but he's with held himself before."

"Iggy, what are you talking about? Anyone who looks at my brother that way has got to be evil and evil beings must be vanquished by the hero!"

Two voices, in perfect unison and harmony, "Shut the hell up Alfred."

America smiled guiltily, and scratched his head. "Sorry."

"Now let's go before my dear Mathieu is 'armed."

"If he's angry about this, I'm blaming it all on you gits."

"Fine by me geezer."

There was a scowl, then a loud slap.

"OW! THAT HURT!"

"Oh do shut up. I barely touched you."

The next thing the little blond Canadian knew, his long time friend was pressed up against his chest, a strange look that screamed danger in his eyes.

"H-H-Holland?"

The Dutch man smiled softly. The sight of his little angel so flushed… The sound of him stuttering out _his_ name… It was perfect.

Holland hummed quietly and tried to comfort the Canadian. "Hush Matthew. Please… I've waited for this for so long… Please…"

That look in his eyes faded. The amber eyes that now stared into violet ones now held a look more resembled a deep held longing. But the danger was still there, however faded it may have become. And the constant pressure against Matthew's chest reminded him of that.

But Matthew couldn't bring himself to reject his friend. Maybe, somewhere deep down, he wanted this too. And that's what Holland had been dreaming of, for more-or-less the past 65 years.

"H-Holland…" was all Canada could bring himself to whimper out.

It wasn't a warning, but a word of acceptance. Knowing that the nation was allowing him, Holland passionately met Canada's lips in a kiss that neither would forget.

"COME ON YOU BLOODY GIT DRIVE FASTER."

"And you were the one saying that we shouldn't interfere with Mattie's life."

"Am I not allowed to change my mind?"

"If you 'ave changed your mind about this, 'ow about changing it about my offer?"

"... You're absolutely disgusting Francis."

"Merci."

Alfred pulled up to Holland's house. "Here we are."

"Well then what are we waiting for? Let's go in there and get Canada back."

" 'Ave you forgot the plan already Angleterre?"

…

"Right. The plan."

If they weren't right in front of Netherlands house, Alfred would've started laughing like there was no tomorrow. Unfortunately, he didn't do the best job of hiding that fact.

"What are you smirking at you stupid twit?"

"N-nothing," giggled the super power, trying to refrain from killing himself by laughter.

"Then let us go."

Following France's lead of the car, the trio slowly snuck up to the house and tried to peek through the window to see what was going on.

"Mon dieu!"

"Wow."

"WHAT? What do you see? Just tell me you bloody wankers!"

"There's a bottle of Coca Cola in there."

"What about it?"

"Well it's one of those really old glass bottles that you can't find anymore!"

"…That's it?"

"Oui."

"No Matthew?"

"Nopers~"

Arthur sighed. "Well then where are they?"

"Let's go find out."

Slowly opening the door, they looked around as if Holland and Canada would jump out at them with guns or something.

"Where do you think they are?" whispered a nervous looking America.

"Well-"

England was cut off by a loud noise.

"What the bloody hell was that?" he harshly whispered.

" 'Ell I do believe-"

There it was again. That loud noise. It sounded like someone was upstairs… Moaning?

All three nations stared at each other. "Canada!"


End file.
